


love it if we made it

by juggyjones



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Post Season 5, Sort Of, basically very feely and cute, book two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-12 10:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16871704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juggyjones/pseuds/juggyjones
Summary: in which bellamy recalls the birth of his relationship with clarke.





	love it if we made it

The human species is flawed in its design; it requires a society to be able to function. It strives for an interpersonal connection, for closeness to other members of the species and a sense of security; of belonging. It strives for the greater kind of existence, where the parts amount to a whole that is comfortable and a safety blanket.

It strives for a society. It strives for rules and regulations, for the familiar to deafen the strange. It strives for the known.

There was nothing known or familiar or safe in waking up with her in his arms. He’d smell the earthy but sweet smell of her hair and feel the soft waves sprawled across his chest, her tiny body tangled with his, and he’d be surprised that she’s here.

Every morning, for the past two months, he’s woken up to this – and he’s woken up surprised.

He kisses her forehead. His lips are brief on her skin but he tastes something that he can’t put into words, but is so Clarke—something that he has both gotten used to, and not at all.

‘Morning,’ he says.

‘No,’ she replies.

She snuggles into him, even closer, and he needs to blow some of her hair out of his mouth. Her body is warm against his and he pulls her closer, too, eyes fluttering as he wonders if this is still just a dream; just a fantasy he’s been having.

‘Fine.’

He can feel her smile. ‘Five more minutes.’

‘You got it, boss.’

She laughs, and he thinks he’s never been happier.

It’s not a dream and he knows it can’t be, because he remembers how they got to this point. He remembers holding her as they both cried over Monty and Harper, with Jordan behind them, and looked at the new planet they were going to call home.

She held his hand, briefly, right before they announced the news to their people. It was a short squeeze, but he couldn’t have done it without her.

They descended to the ground together. They made first contact together. They led their people together.

And fell in love, somewhere along the way.

The first time they spoke about it, they were still just friends; or best friends, whatever they could be called. They sat at a bonfire, one of the many that were prepared during scouting trips they had to take with the people they found on the planet. It was just the two of them—everyone else was already asleep—and somehow the conversation flowed in that direction.

He was the first one to say it.

‘I hated you,’ he said, ‘when we dropped down on Earth.’

Clarke smiled and laughed, drawing into the sand.

‘And then I lost you.’

His voice gets deeper, raspier; her smile disappears.

‘It took me years to get over your death and even then, I wasn’t completely over. And when we came back down and you were there, I—’

He never finishes that sentence.

Bellamy watches her, now, under the light of the stars and a fire and doesn’t really believe they’ve made it – they survived the death of their planet, _twice_ , only to be here. Centuries away from their home, miles and miles, on a different planet that’s still strange.

‘I know,’ she says. ‘I feel the same way.’

She gets up and walks over to his side of the fire, knees touching as she sits down. He can feel the heat of her skin against his more than the heat of the fire in front of him; her fingers laced with his, for the first time since they’ve landed here.

He wraps his free arm around her shoudlers and she leans against him, tucking her head in the crook of his neck. He notices the smell of ehr hair, for the first time.

Bellamy closes his eyes. Presses his lips to her forehead. Gives her hand a squeeze. Tugs her closer.

‘I could barely bear losing you once,’ he says. ‘Losing you again would kill me.’

His voice cracks at the second sentence and he barely gets it out, almost chokes on the words. They both know he’s telling his truth. He feels her breath, hot on the skin on his neck. It’s irregular, and almost as if she’s holding it – waiting for something.

So he says, ‘It took us a long time to get here.’ He doesn’t specify where “here” is – survival, this planet, this fire, this position. It doesn’t matter. ‘A long time to realize that we’ll always have to keep fighting for what we’ve got, ‘cause it doesn’t matter if we deserve it or not. There’ll always be fighting. But it wasn’t all bad. I realized there are some things worth fighting for, no matter what. Things like this.’

He looks at her, but can’t see her face.

She’s holding her breath.

He closes his eyes again.

‘Things like us.’

She kisses him, minutes later, without saying a word. It’s a chaste kiss, cautious, but there is so much affection in it that Bellamy feels like he’s drowning in it.

When they kiss the next time, it’s a little less cautious; braver. Every time after that, they explore more of each other, and find it easier to fall into a rhythm that allows them to be Bellamy and Clarke but also _Bellamy and Clarke_ , where no one can see them. Where they’re alone, and safe, and away from prying eyes. Where they aren’t leaders or generals, but simply two lovers who have waited centuries on one another.

Who finally don’t have to fight for what they deserve.

And now, with her asleep in his arms, Bellamy thinks this is why he can’t fathom that she truly is his, after all this time – because he didn’t need to fight for her. All he did was let himself feel what his heart felt, and let his mouth form the words. To be vulnerable in front of her.

There’s no fighting for someone you love, if they love you back.

He kisses her forehead, like he did that time where he expressed his feelings the first time.

‘I love you,’ he whispers.

She smiles into his chest.

This – everything he’s ever gone through has been worth it, because this isn’t a dream. It’s a reality he’s waking up to, every single morning. It’s his life.

And maybe it’ll never stop feeling like a dream, but he doesn’t mind it. He knows she’s not going away, and if he doesn’t feel like it’s real, he’ll never let her go.

**Author's Note:**

> the first fic after three months is done!! i can't say i'm very proud of it, but it was a good beginning, i'd say. if you have any ideas i could work with, feel free to leave them in the comments, or message me on [tumblr](http://bellarkesgodson.tumblr.com/)
> 
> additionally, if you'd maybe like to support me financially (as i am a struggling uni student) you can [buy me a coffee](https://ko-fi.com/Q5Q2M6LS). (which, of course, is appreciated but in no way a requirement ♥️)


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